


i'm not strong enough

by charliewritesokay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliewritesokay/pseuds/charliewritesokay
Summary: Gabriel wasn't strong enough to save Sam, but Sam didn't need to be saved.Please leave a comment, it really helps!





	1. Mirror, mirror

"I'm not strong enough."  
Gabriel repeated to himself again and again and again, squeezing his eyes shut to remove the image of Sam's beaten, broken, shattered body. The darkness only made it worse.

"I'm not strong enough."  
Gabriel ground out.

"Practically useless, a coward. I'm not strong enough. I wasn't strong enough. I'll never be strong enough." Gabriel surveyed his surroundings, looked at Jack, his nephew who he had already let down, just like everyone else he'd ever known.

Everything suddenly became too much and he started to back away slowly and then ran, not even taking the time to utilise his cursed, pitiful, useless wings.

Ran like the coward everyone thought he was. Ran like the coward he knew he was. Ran like the coward Sam had always believed he was more than.

Sam.

Gabriel stopped running and let himself fall to the ground.

Sam.

Why hadn't he been strong enough? Angels don't cry. Could even be called an angel? He had failed his father. He had failed everyone. He had failed the only one who didn't think he was a failure.

"We were supposed to love humans." He mumbled to himself. "But just how much? How much?" Gabriel rubbed a hand over his face and stopped abruptly when he felt something sticky. Shakily, he drew his hand back and stared at it blankly.

Blood.

Gabriel gasped, shut his eyes tightly and brought his knees up to his chest. "I'm not strong enough." He swore he heard Sam in the back of his mind saying, "Gabriel, I need you." over and over and over and over and a hundred times more, "Gabriel, I need you."

  
Sam needed him.

Gabriel shut his eyes and searched for any piece of Sam still alive, still present.

Sam needed him.

He had to do something.        

Sam needed him.

No one had ever needed Gabriel.

He scoured every inch of the universe, he had to find him. His soul, his essence. He had to save him. There was nothing. Not a speck of life. Not in heaven, not in hell. Not anywhere.

Gabriel collapsed. He bit his lip to keep from sobbing, he should have just let Lucifer kill him back at Elysian Fields, it would have hurt less. He'd never felt such sharp, searing pain in all the millennia he'd been alive. Not when Kali betrayed him, not when Luci betrayed him, not when Asmodeus enslaved him, not when his father abandoned him. Never had he felt so wronged. He felt as if everything that had purpose had been ripped from his hands.

He should have saved him.

Sam had saved him countless times, and this is how Gabriel repaid him. Sam had been there when he "died".

Sam had cared.

It had taken Gabriel every inch of his being not to reveal himself to Sam that fateful even when Lucifer killed him. Sam returned, he stayed and he wept.

He cared.

No one had ever cared the way Sam Winchester did. When Ketch brought him to the bunker, it was Sam who removed his stitches, Sam who made him feel safe, Sam who made him remember. It was Sam who he killed Asmodeus to protect.

Gabriel suddenly jumped up, full of anger. Full of spite. He looked up at the grey and dismal sky and he yelled at his Father, summoning his blade for good measure, "Why did you give me this job? Why did you assign me to protect him? Why me? When have I ever done anything right? Why would you put something as precious as Sam Winchester in the care of a failure like me? Why?"

He sank back down to ground and stared at his bloody hands. The proof of his failure.

He wasn't strong enough.

  
He closed his eyes and knit together the wounds of Sam Winchester, healed every scratch on his skin, fixed him.

Gabriel formulated a model of Sam Winchester in his mind. He was perfect, but he wasn't real.

Gabriel was reminded of an ancient Enochian hymn that warned the angels of falling in love with humans. Playing around with the lyrics around in his mouth, he duplicated this motion with his archangel blade. He wasn't careful and ended up cutting his hand open.

A new sensation to be sure, as an archangel, pain wasn't a normal feeling. Surprisingly, it wasn't unpleasant. Gabriel looked down at his hand, at his vessel's blood mixing with Sam's and clenched his fist, watching mesmerised as their blood dripped down as one. He tilted his head as an interesting thought popped into his head.

He had failed, he was useless. Sam had died, and so, as was the custom during ancient Egyptian times, he should die as well. Accompany him to the afterworld, keep him safe there to make up for his failure on earth.

Gabriel knew his death wouldn't bring him closer to Sam, but he didn't care. He was allowed to delude himself and the thought of living without Sam was so much harder than he ever could have imagined. He couldn't fail anyone else if he was dead.

Gabriel walked back to the edge of the camp and memorised the faces of the people he would consider family. He didn't enter it, they'd be better off without him anyway. He slowly made his way back to his previous location, taking several minutes to reflect on his existence.

He'd made his peace with his decision, everything was in slow motion, everything was blurry, it was hard to concentrate or even see as he took the only weapon that could kill an archangel and thrust in straight through the heart Sam Winchester had stolen.

He could have sworn he'd screamed but he didn't hear a thing. The emotions he felt were unexplainable, peace and pain, shock and sadness.

-

If only he could have seen the way Sam Winchester was looking at him, not dead at all- just within the clutches of Lucifer, the horror on his face as Lucifer held him back.

If only he could have known that his brother had hidden him after bringing him back to life.

If only he had seen the tears Sam Winchester shed for him, again. The pain in his voice as he made it grow hoarse by yelling out for him, for Gabriel.

If only he could have seen that he was doing exactly to Sam Winchester as Sam Winchester had done to him.


	2. where art thou, romeo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam.  
> Listen to safe and sound by taylor swift while reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for another chapter, but I'm pretty sure they didn't want this.

Sam wanted to be alone, dammit.

He didn't want Dean, he didn't Jack or Castiel, and he certainly didn't want his mother.

Oh, if only Lucifer hadn't brought him back to life. If only Lucifer had brought his back sooner. If only, if only, if only.

Sam had experienced his fair share of loss, but he'd imagined that every time it would get easier to say goodbye. Sadly, that was not the case. 

He couldn't say goodbye this time.

He looked at the burned out corpse of Gabriel, archangel of the Lord. He reached out and rubbed the charred remnants of his wings between his fingers, and he cried. 

He cried because of how happy he had been when Lucifer had brought him back, how hopeful. He cried because he'd lost his hope and he really really wished he could rip out his heart because it hurt, it hurt so badly. Every breath he took felt like a curse, every bite he ate tasted like the ash that laid before him, and with every step he walked, he felt like he was falling.

Why hadn't Lucifer just let him die? Why had Lucifer held him back, why hadn't he turned his face away when Gabriel had imbedded that desolate, cursed, hated blade deep inside his heart. Why hadn't Sam broken free of Lucifer's hold, why hadn't he seen him soon enough, reached him quick enough, yelled for him loud enough.

Sam breathed in tight, painful expulsions of air, barely letting oxygen in, barely letting carbon dioxide out.

Why did it hurt so badly? Was it because he had just gotten him back? Was it because he'd already seen him die once before, was it because every time Gabriel died, it was Sam's fault and he was never there in time to save him?

Why wasn't he ever there in time? Why hadn't he just stayed dead?

Sam stroked Gabriel face and begged for it to be warm and full of color. Begged and pleaded for it to have that impish smile that made Sam feel like a school boy, prayed to feel movement- Sam gave a start as he felt something touch his hand, but it wasn't Gabriel, no, it was some sort of disfigured mutant rat. Sam felt rage boiling up inside of him, he grabbed the creature and briefly considered ripping it to shreds before throwing it, full force, at a diseased tree. 

His rage was soon replaced by horror and disgust and pure hatred. Why hadn't Chuck done something? Why didn't Chuck ever do anything? He felt bile rising up in throat, and choked it down. Why were rats crawling over Gabriel's body as if he were some discarded corpse? He was going to be fine, Sam would make sure of it. He had to.

Gabriel had given him a new hope, they'd been running the same routine for years, but Gabriel...Gabriel was different. He didn't care about you, or so he said, but he was loyal, intensely loyal. He did whatever he pleased, but he'd always come back for those who were lucky enough to call him "friend". Why hadn't Sam died instead? 

Sam stared at his body, so small and defenseless in death, when in life, his personality made up for what he lacked in size, and he was never caught of guard.

How dare death take his dignity away from him. How dare death take him away at all. 

He knew what he had to do, Sam reminded himself. He had to pay for his mistakes. It was his fault that Gabriel had died, now he would make it even. A life for a life. He couldn't go on. He wouldn't go on. 

Sam pulled out the jar of holy oil he'd brought, and made a circle around himself and Gabriel. He then drenched them both, rubbing it into their hair and clothing. Sam then leaned over Gabriel, clutched the sword in his stomach, and pulled it out in one swift movement. Sam let his tears fall, it didn't matter anymore. He brought his lighter to life and dropped it onto the ring, he didn't have much time they caught fire. 

Sam said a simple prayer, mentally apologised to Dean and plunged the blade into his heart with a grunt. He really hadn't thought this through, but it was fine, he decided as his body fell on top of Gabriel already burning corpse. His head turned towards the sound of voices, and he smiled sadly as he saw Dean running towards him, too late. Too late.

Will the cycle ever end? Sam asked himself as he closed his eyes for the last time, submitting the arms of the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry?


End file.
